


A Call Two Arms

by wynnesome



Series: Go Bing-Or Go Home [4]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bad Puns, Disgustingly Wholesome, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Humor, Implied Ass Grabbing, Love Is A Four-Letter Word, M/M, Memes, Puns & Word Play, Steve Rogers' Motivational Speeches, The Bots Are Tony's Children, Tony Stark Has Daddy Issues, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:40:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24033691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wynnesome/pseuds/wynnesome
Summary: DUM-E has been visibly down for days. Not mechanically. In amood.Tony tries to talk him out of it, but his Communication About Feelings doesn't quite hit the mark.So he calls in the ultimate Pep-Talk-Giver, Captain America.(In which affirmations and motivational posters are brought to life, and conversations are had about being loved for who we are, not how much we can do.)
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, Tony Stark & His Bots - Relationship
Series: Go Bing-Or Go Home [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1241579
Comments: 30
Kudos: 163





	A Call Two Arms

**Author's Note:**

  * For [swtalmnd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/swtalmnd/gifts).



> Fills the "One Lab Accident Away from Supervillainy" square (Y-3) on my 2020 round 1 Stony Bingo card.
> 
> Set in that MCU forever-golden age that never quite was, where there is this team of superhero friends called the Avengers, and Steve and Tony are happy superhero boyfriends.
> 
>  **Me:** I have the itch to write, but Quarantine-Brain doesn't want to concentrate on putting a story together from start to finish.  
>  **Me:** _writes a few 100-400-word snippets for spontaneous word prompts_  
>  **Me:** Brain was ok with that and it was fun. I should get a Bingo card and try to do a line thinking of the squares as that same kind of prompts for short snippets.  
>  **Me:** _gets the card, gets an idea for the first square, and it becomes a 3k fic_  
>  **Me:** This is how we get not-snippets.
> 
> But I have zero regrets for the mild case of fic-splosion, because as thrilled as I am to have been writing more 616 fic recently, I'd also almost forgotten how much fun it is to write MCU Tony, who will never stop living, and whom I will never stop loving. (And the same same same for JARVIS.)

DUM-E had been visibly down for days. Not mechanically. In a _mood_.

While Butterfingers and U motored around making themselves generally, well, U-seful, DUM-E moped for hours in his charging bay with his claw hanging low, waiting till Tony launched into a round of assembly work before sounding off a wild flurry of beeps and boops and wheeling out at reckless speed.

When a completed project required cleanup, he shot out once again, zooming and weaving perilously between human and fellow bots alike, to snatch up tools, supplies, and chunks of scrap, moving them from place to place as rapidly as possible -- never mind that all he was really doing was grabbing an ongoing succession of objects, only to deposit each one a few feet away, in a location decidedly not related to its proper point of storage or disposal.

Sure, DUM-E had always been a little excitable, a little... quirky, in his interpretation and execution of tasks. But that was part of his charm and his individuality. This careening madly from crazed activity to stone cold stops was something new. Could a bot develop... bipolar? ADHD? Could you, what, medi-code, for it?

Tony sighed, following JARVIS's holographic indicators around the lab to collect everything DUM-E had just "put away." He opened the mini-fridge to grab the safety goggles and scooped up the wire strippers from the mop sink, chucked the latter into the appropriate tool drawer and hung the former on the hook panel. 

That was the last of it; he stopped, hand on one black-denimed hip, tapping a toe and chewing distractedly on his upper lip, and studied the object of his dilemma. His erstwhile helper had already retreated back to his station and sat silently, _facing the wall,_ like a sulky, sullen child. What the hell had crawled up his bot and died?

Exasperated, Tony ran his other hand through work-disheveled hair and queried, "J, you got any idea what this is all about with DUM-E?"

"He has neither complained nor confided in me, sir. At the moment, he has engaged his sleep mode, but when the cycle completes, I shall, if you wish, enquire."

 _Sleep mode? Voluntarily? DUM-E?_ From Mr. No-Such-Thing-As-Bedtime, that was a near-literal door-slam in the face.

"Yeah, please do that, buddy. Thanks."

Tony went back to the fridge, this time for shit that rightfully belonged in it. A few minutes later, snacked and hydrated, he chalked up a mark on the "I Do So Remember to Self-Care, Sometimes" board, brought up the Pink Floyd trance remix playlist at low volume via JARVIS, and settled himself at the main workstation, immersing in a set of virtual schematics. Nothing too heavy, but he was pretty sure he could reorient that circuit board here, which would shorten the distance for the wire leads there, which would allow for an additional layer of shielding in the extra eighth-inch of margin gained...

Around thirty minutes later, the display flashed twice, the music faded down, and JARVIS's voice slid smoothly into the mix.

"Sir, as you requested, I have conferred with DUM-E."

"Hm? Ah, yeah, whatcha got?" Tony glanced over. The bot had turned around to face forward and had left the charging station, at least, but was still quiescent, parked a few feet in front of it with his claw-head resting nearly on the floor.

"He has indicated that he is experiencing... I believe you might term it 'feelings of inadequacy.'"

Tony frowned, swiveling his chair back and forth a few degrees in each direction while listening to JARVIS report.

"DUM-E has become convinced that his maximum performance capacity still falls short of required standards, and that he must increase his productivity to continue proving his worth. In fact, he's asked me to pass along a request. He is quite certain that he would be able to work more efficiently if he were enabled to hold or transport multiple objects at a time -- perhaps by means of a second arm added to his frame."

"Another arm...?" Tony echoed blankly.

"That is what he suggested, sir."

"I... ok, thanks, J..." 

Slumping down heavily against the chair back, Tony waved a hand in a vague gesture indicating an end to the conversation, and absorbed this information. What had he done to make his eager, playful bot-child feel so insecure? He'd always teased him with affection for his foibles; DUM-E knew that -- didn't he? That no matter how Tony grumbled and joked, no Ivy League halls could ever be hallowed enough for his baby, never mind the mock-threatened city college? That if Tony had wanted a bot to work in a factory, he'd have designed one for an assembly line to begin with? And even beyond thoughts of tasks and applications, didn't DUM-E know that Tony--

Fuck. He'd never meant to be a parent... and still, he had brought these mechanical souls into the world. Had he--? He could hardly bear the thought. Despite every ounce of self-determination -- _had he become like his **father**?_

No... He had done better -- he had to have. And even if he was still wrong, Tony was a creator, a builder, and that also meant being a re-builder, a fixer, ferreting out flaws, finding and setting things right. If he'd somehow broken the faith and trust of his (big) little bot, he could only hope it wasn't too late to repair and restore his self-worth.

He stood and walked over with measured steps, fingers and thumb scratching his chin as he continued to contemplate. Squatting, he took his eldest's claw between his two hands and tugged. "Up, you big lug, lift up and look at me."

The bot minimally complied, raising his camera to the level of Tony's kneecap, and uttering a clipped chirp.

Tony hunkered down further, scooting around to sit cross-legged, and looking DUM-E straight in the "eye."

"DUM-E... buddy. Pal. Hey." Ok, yeah, but _what words?_ "I... I hate having you think you're not good enough."

The bot gave a long, dubious, descending beep, and the aperture of his lens went half-shuttered.

"I mean it, I--"

God dammit, He was no good at this. 

" _Hhhrrrggghhh..._ " Tony growled out his frustration with himself, wishing he could take a repulsor to whomever had invented emotions and packaged them with no instruction manual included in the box.

"DUM-E, DUM-E, look, stay with me, ok? Well, not _with_ me, because I have to--" He removed one hand from the bot's head to jerk his thumb back over his shoulder. "--go get something to make this better. I'm gonna... Look just, stay here and don't go back into charging mode, all right? Pretty, pretty please with quantum processors on top?"

DUM-E whirred quietly, like a bird expressing disdain with a ruffling of feathers, but remained in place when Tony stood with a groan for stiff knees, dusting off his thighs and stepping quickly back toward the workbench. 

Steve. He needed Steve.

It was Steve Rogers who was Tony's boyfriend, but Steve was Cap, and when it came to inspiring confidence and making all that motivational-poster bullshit feel like the towering mountains and soaring eagles really meant something, well, pep talks were practically what Captain America was _for_. (Ok, that, and punching Nazis, and being the best body pillow in the history of the world, but still. Pep talks.)

Forget the serum. That was Steve's real superpower. Steve made people feel like they mattered.

If he could do it for one genius billionaire on an endless quest for redemption -- just by sheer force of belief, make Tony feel that rock-solid sense of rightness for his place in the world -- then he could do it for Tony's wire-crossed helper-bot, too. 

So call it cheating, but he was calling Steve. Steve would know what to say.

Tony did a quick " _fuck, man, it's X am_ " check ( _see, Rhodey, something did stick, it only took twenty years...)_ , and, ok, good, eight-oh-three pm. Fair game. 

"JARV, would you buzz Steve's phone, please?"

They'd get this mess straighted out, and then he'd let Steve entice him into a proper dinner outside of the lab.

Five minutes later, Steve trotted in. He was carrying his shield, but dressed down, in jeans faded practically as white as his t-shirt, both of which hugged his body deliciously as he ambled over. Tony knew that well-worn denim to be almost as soft as flannel, and stole a quick touch, tucking his fingers just inside one back pocket when Steve stopped by his side and leaned in for a kiss. 

"Mm, thanks for coming down, babe," Tony told him, always heartened by his boyfriend's presence, but concern for DUM-E's well-being still hovering at the forefront of his mind like a warning in the Iron Man HUD.

Steve nudged him lightly with his hip as they broke away. "Course. Anything for my favorite guys." His smile fell away, the twin parallel lines of worry-wrinkle appearing between his brows. Tony had seen his gaze take in the entire space as he entered, but now Steve looked and across the room toward DUM-E. "Hey, DUM-E," he called out, just loud enough to carry. "I hear you've had a rough couple of days."

DUM-E hadn't moved since Tony's request, but now he raised his head and zeroed in on Steve with an excited series of beeps. (Tony would be jealous, but he got excited and his head went right up for Steve, too.) The bot rolled forward a few inches and then stopped abruptly, his claw drooping partway back down.

"It's ok, DUM-E, c'mon over--" Steve encouraged, at the same time Tony jumped in to explain.

"Ah, I had asked him not to go running off. He's just trying to do what I asked, for once, recently. Why don't you just..." _go on over there and talk to him_ , Tony projected with a flap of his arm. "I'll wait here. Let you two hash it out."

The look Steve gave him contained questions, but he held them in, nodding. "Sure." He raised his voice again. "Hang on, DUM-E, I'll be right over." 

Leaving Tony with a squeeze to the shoulder, he strode across the floor, pausing only to shoot a grin and thumbs-up back when he passed the Self-Care board, mouthing with a stage-whisper, "reward later." Tony grinned wolfishly in return, leaning a hip against the workbench to observe.

The other two bots converged upon Steve as he approached DUM-E, so that he appeared surrounded by a herd of friendly ponies, prancing and pushing their heads out for a pat. U clanged the center of the shield, still slung on Steve's left arm, and Tony found himself laughing out loud along with them, his smile lingering as Steve accepted the playful jostling and greeted each bot by name. "Good aim, there, U, that's a bullseye. Hi, Butterfingers, I'm happy to see you, too. I have to ask you a favor, though, guys. I really need to talk to DUM-E for a few minutes."

Tony was proud to see the others respectfully roll back and wheel away to occupy themselves, leaving an unobstructed view of Steve facing DUM-E. Steve slid his shield from his arm and lowered it toward DUM-E's wheeled platform. "I could use a place to set this -- do you think you could hold it for me?"

Tony could see and hear them well enough, but took a couple of steps closer.

DUM-E craned his arm to close his claw lightly over the rim of the shield, gripping for a moment, then releasing it. "I'll take that as a yes," Steve told him, propping it so it leaned back at a slant, bottom edge on the platform, and top edge resting higher up against DUM-E's pedestal. "Thanks."

DUM-E beeped a happy-sounding reply, and with a whoosh of hydraulics, extended his strut at a sharp downward angle, back end raising high, so he could fold his head down and in against the shield.

"He promises he will keep it safe, Captain," JARVIS translated, reinforcing with words the already markedly distinct bot-y language.

"I know you will, DUM-E. Thank you, JARVIS. I'm sorry I didn't say hi. That was rude."

"No apology needed, Captain Rogers," the AI reassured. "Your attention is appropriately directed elsewhere."

"So, DUM-E, Tony says you've been unhappy."

DUM-E made a decidely dejected sound in response, continuing to "hug" the shield like a security blanket. 

"I'm really sorry to hear that. And I hope I can try to make you feel better. But first -- DUM-E, you know we love you, right? Tony, me, the other bots, JARVIS? All of us. That's really important."

Oh. Right. That was one of the words Tony had meant and hadn't quite been able to get to. He crept closer again, not wanting to intrude, but also feeling a stretchy-pulling in his chest at not being a part of this, and he was mostly, like, 1000% and quintuple-redundant diagnostics sure -- you couldn't be too careful, ok? -- that it wasn't the arc reactor acting up. Even though that would probably be easier to troubleshoot.

A few feet from him, Steve reached out to rest one hand on DUM-E's strut. "We love you for exactly who and how you are, no matter what. Not for what work you can do, or how fast you can go, or how many things you can put away."

Tony could see that Steve definitely had DUM-E's attention. The bot had finally lifted his head away from his patriotic "pillow" to tilt it up quizically toward Steve.

"Now, what _does_ matter, is that you always do your best."

DUM-E opened and closed his claw.

"Ok, let me explain. My shield, there. Do you think I just throw it around as many times as fast as I can?"

DUM-E waved his claw slowly from side to side.

"No, that's right. I aim, every time. One throw to hit one target is way better than ten throws to hit nothing. Make sense?"

"Or to put ten things in the wrong place." Oops, like Tony's mouth had just put itself in the wrong place. He raised his hands. "Sorry, sorry."

Steve looked over his shoulder at Tony, seeming not at all surprised to see him so near, which in turn didn't at all surprise Tony, since Steve had almost certainly heard his approach.

"No, you're right, though. Tony's right, DUM-E. It's definitely better to do one thing the best you can, then a whole lot of things half-assed."

Tony opened his mouth, but was beaten to the punch by DUM-E's vehement two-syllable trill that bore an uncanny resemblance to the inflection of the word " _language!_ " He shut his trap and trapped the laughter in with a hand clapped across his face, but from the frown Steve shot at him, he was sure it was leaking out around his eyes anyway. Steve rolled his, and turned his attention back to the bot.

"And then even if you don't get something right, it won't be because you didn't try your hardest."

Tony's chest was feeling all not-arc-reactor-malfunction-y again.

DUM-E's next series of sounds held a very determined note, but was not particularly comprehensible. Thankfully, JARVIS stepped in once more as translator. "He says he wants to try his best, sirs, but still thinks he could accomplish more with a second arm."

"DUM-E--" Tony began.

"Let me?" Steve asked quietly, and Tony deferred. This was Steve's show, after all; no reason to have called him down here if he wasn't going to let him speak his piece.

"So one more thing, DUM-E. I'll leave it up to you and Tony to decide if another arm is a good choice for you. But just remember: There's nothing wrong with feeling like you want to grow and improve and accomplish more as a person. It's admirable, even. But that's something you should do for you, not because you feel like you're not good enough for someone else. And it's definitely not a reason to feel like you have to change your body." 

_Was he hearing this?_ Tony barely held his tongue, drilling Steve's back with a laser-eye he was amazed wasn't burning right through him, because holy fuck, _Bot, Kettle_. But what the hell ever, what was a little blatant ~~hypocrisy~~ , _fine_ , he'd just call it _irony_ , if it made the point for DUM-E, that was the important thing.

"Yeah, DUM-E, you don't need an extra arm. Extra arms are how we get supervillains." Tony was pretty sure he'd heard that somewhere before, not quite sure where, but it sounded about right.

Orrr, maybe not, if the indignant-sounding burst of chatter expelled by DUM-E was any indication.

"DUM-E would like to inform the both of you in the most unequivocal of terms that he would never consider becoming a supervillain," JARVIS interpreted.

"I know you wouldn't, DUM-E. Null set. Statistical impossibility. Negative infinity. You could never be a bad guy. You're too good. That's... that's the whole point, really." 

Steve turned toward Tony, leaving the hand on DUM-E's strut solidly in place, and motioning Tony the last few steps over with the other, wrapping it around his waist and pulling him in close. Tony gladly closed the distance between them, pressing in tight to Steve's side. The tugging feeling in his chest became a gentler and warmer one, one that rose up and formed itself into words he hadn't known he contained, and carried them from his heart to his mouth.

"All that stuff Steve's saying? That's what I meant and wanted to tell you. It's just, he's way better at it than I am. That's why... that's why we all have each other and it's good we're all different, right? So we can help each other with the things we're not as good at?"

"That's it, exactly, Tony. I think you said it just perfectly, don't you, DUM-E?"

Steve dropped his hand away from DUM-E as the bot answered with a long rising whistle and started moving. He accompanied himself with a rhythmic series of beeps, slowly extending his arm toward Tony till his claw rested atop Tony's shoulder, and against the side of Steve's where he and Tony stood touching.   
  
Tony raised his hand across his body to lay it atop the claw.

The pull-y chesty feeling maybe moved up to his eyes, a little.

And his voice was maybe just a little husky.

"Nice to have you back, DUM-E. And I, uh. Yeah. I love you too. Just the way you are." Tony looked up at Steve. "You, too." And then he called out to the other bots, "Butterfingers and U, too. Why don't you guys come on over here and join us for this, uh, group hug thing."

They responded eagerly, wheeling over and crowding in for the offered attention. The sentimental moment quickly devolved into something more like a hand-pile, where three of the hands were bot heads and two were human, with Steve and Tony both reserving the arms that remained wrapped around each other's backs...ides. 

"What do you say, JARVIS, looks like you're the one who might need some extra arms to get in on this, hm?" Tony suggested.

"I am content to remain wholly discorporeal as I am, sir, as I do believe I would make a very unpleasant supervillain."

Tony laughed, and Steve groaned. 

Butterfingers poked at the shield, still sitting on DUM-E's base, and DUM-E vocalized enthusiastically.

"Oh, you want to practice that one throw, one hit, one target idea, is that it?" Steve asked.

"Hey, boys, you know the rules, no shield-throwing in the lab, except in case of _actual_ supervillain, god forbid," Tony joked, but there was Iron Man in his voice.

Steve retrieved the shield, leaving the bots free to mill around excitedly, and Tony free to cuddle shamelessly against his boyfriend. All had worked out well. Asking for Steve's help had been the best idea. And adding his own contribution to his partner's perspective? That was how you got co-parenting, Tony thought. Did he want co-parenting? If it was him and Steve? Yeah, he thought he just might.

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to [swtalmnd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/swtalmnd/pseuds/swtalmnd), who, upon seeing my Bingo card, immediately gravitated toward this square, proclaiming, "Extra arms are how we get supervillains!" 
> 
> This being a line from one of [her own fics](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21766927), a hilarious play on a meme that's also become a little bit of a running joke between us. And the moment she said it, the idea for this fic took shape for me. Thank you for the loan of your great line, and for being the great friend. <3


End file.
